Following a tooth fairy hiatus and only 24 hours after seeing the dentist, my son’s had three teeth come out in as many days; it seems they are indeed like buses. It’s nothing short of miraculous given that he’s nearly 8, has had a mouth full of wobblers for months, yet had previously only lost two teeth. That was until last week when lost three in as many days – ‘lost’ in more ways than one. Two were accounted for and placed outside our fairy door, but he only realised the third was missing when it was long-gone.
So, the fairies are back in town. Although the tooth-exchange by our fairy door seemed to have worked for the front tooth which was the first in the current series (no.3 overall), there was no mention of it at breakfast time. When I asked him, he sounded vaguely impressed that the ‘Fairy Chief’ had come as it was a ‘special’ tooth (this was however pure accident on my part – all the poems have different names to fit the rhyme). He was also chuffed as he happened to need money for a school event, but unfortunately when he went back to get the pound, it had disappeared. After looking high and low, it transpired that his younger brother had put it in his piggy bank (…whilst ‘kindly’ offering to lend him money in a blatant case of sneaky-siblingitis if ever there was one).
The second tooth (no.4) came out so quickly that I improvised by putting a handwritten note with a bunch of 20p coins that I turned into a feature:
“… I hope you like the 20ps – don’t you worry, it’s not a tease. You know that 5 make a pound. I’ve left them for you without a sound. Look after your remaining teeth, lots of love from Pixie Keith”.
I didn’t think it mattered, because to be honest, he’d never shown much interest in the whole fairy fandango. However, it seems my cavalier approach had just enough holes in it to spark his interest. Suddenly, he morphed into Hercule Poirot, saying, “… but it wasn’t in fairy-writing, it was in human writing” (turns out he’s been lining them up -spot the odd one out below), so I nonchalantly asked to see it to buy some thinking time.
As he was suspicious about Father Christmas’ existence when he was three, I knew I was skating on thin ice with the fairies. But, they’re bit like Father Christmas – it pays to believe. Thankfully my limited rhyming repertoire had led me to sign it off from ‘Pixie Keith’, so I could at least suggest that as an excuse for the change in writing. That seemed to work and now he’s decided that the Fairy Chief must come for just the front teeth (damn – something else for me to remember).
As we’re clueless as to what happened to the tooth which fell out the following day (no.5), I suggested that he could write a letter to the fairies to explain the situation. Here’s what he mustered:
This time, when he was asleep, I printed a proper Fairy note (nobly overcoming an empty ink cartridge and not being able to find the original font). The next day suspicions were abated, as the note was was discarded without comment (leaving me wondering whether ‘no comment’ is really a sign of ‘success’? It’s beginning to have all the hallmarks of our Christmas Elf shenanigans).
In the meantime, his five-year-old brother wanted in on the action so started trying to pull his own teeth out (**oh no**). After telling him to stop, I suggested he may want to write to the fairies too – to let them know he’s here for when the time comes for his teeth to fall out. He kept it punchy:
The rather clunky response from the Fairies (subtext: STOP PULLING AT YOUR TEETH!!):
As for my eldest? Well, he currently looks like a pirate. I reckon we’ve got a few weeks until the next wobbler falls, so I’ve printed off a stock of poems to have in waiting. The font’s still wrong, but that’s a first world problem if ever there was one. I can already feel myself spinning tales of new printing presses and fairies ‘moving with the times’…
Looking for more tooth fairy inspiration?